…darkness.
Liam staggered in the void, with no footing, no sound except his own heartbeat echoing in the endless empty space. He tried to open his eyes, but the darkness still enveloped him. There was no light. There were no shapes. Only... a feeling of drowning.
When Liam opened his eyes, he had no idea how he had ended up in that room. His body was covered in wounds, his clothes torn in several places, and the classroom looked as though it had just been ravaged by a riot. Chairs were overturned, shards of glass littered the floor, and the scent of iron—the smell of blood—wafted faintly through the air. The sky outside the window was already dark. He had no idea how long he had been unconscious.
His breath caught in his throat. With great effort, he tried to gather his senses, enduring the pain that spread as he slowly stood up. His legs trembled, but he forced himself to walk toward the door. The sound of the wind whistling through the hallway made his hair stand on end. When he peeked out, his gaze immediately locked onto the figure at the end of the hallway.
The figure stood motionless. Unmoving. But its gaze pierced like a dagger—cold, filled with hatred.
Panic began to overtake Liam. He hurriedly tried to close the door again, but—CRASH!—a hand reached out from the outside to block it. Its nails were long, its skin pale. With a strong push, the door swung open wide, and Liam's body was thrown backward, crashing onto the floor with a thud. His head throbbed with pain.
He wanted to move, to flee, but his body felt paralyzed. His breath came in gasps. The figure now stood at the doorway—tall and gaunt, its face expressionless, yet its smile made Liam's blood run cold.
...His steps were slow but steady. Each footstep echoed in Liam's chest. When the figure stood directly in front of him, his cold hand touched his shoulder.
Then a voice sounded—hoarse, deep, and filled with anger.
"Do you think you can run from me, Liam?"
Liam was speechless. The voice was like an echo from the nightmares he had had since childhood.
"You've been hiding for too long. It's time for you to remember who you truly are..."
The figure leaned in slightly, its face growing closer. The cold breath touched Liam's skin, causing his body to tremble uncontrollably.
Suddenly, the voice erupted in a scream that shook the room:
"THIS IS MINE!!!"
The pale hand gripped Liam's left shoulder tighter, and instantly the symbol on his skin began to glow faintly. A burning sensation spread alongside a sharp, piercing pulse from within.
"That mark... that power... your body—everything belongs to me!"
His smile twisted into a sickening grin, and his dark eyes flickered oddly—as if something alive was within them. In an instant, the world seemed to invert, and Liam's consciousness was pulled into a vortex of darkness.
Then... darkness.
No time. No space. Only emptiness.
Until... something disturbed the silence.
Faintly, a voice called out to him—far away, yet slowly growing clearer, like light piercing through thick fog. "Liam... Liam, hey, wake up…"
"Liam... Liam, hey, wake up…"
The voice belonged to Levi. His tone sounded anxious, urgent. When he touched Liam's left shoulder, Liam's body suddenly tensed.
Liam's eyes flew open, reflexively pushing back with a strong shove. Levi's body was thrown back and fell face-first onto the grass.
Before he could process what was happening, Liam was already moving. He pinned Levi down in a locking position, his hands raised high—ready to strike.
"Liam! Hey! It's me! It's Levi!" Levi shouted frantically, struggling to break free. But Liam's strength was too great—like being held by a professional fighter. His movements were futile, as if his body was locked with no room to fight back.
Liam's eyes looked dark and wild. His breath was labored. For a moment, he saw Levi's face—and like a flash, the memory of his nightmare resurfaced. The figure in the hallway. The gaze of hatred. The cold smile.
Confusion and anger mingled in his gaze.
Levi saw the clenched fist moving swiftly, about to strike his head. He reflexively twisted his body slightly to the side.
BRAKK!
The ground beside Levi's head exploded, creating a deep hole. Spikes of dirt and grass flew everywhere.
Levi froze. His breath caught.
Meanwhile, Liam remained silent, his breath labored. His eyes slowly began to focus. Levi's face—his friend's—was finally recognized.
Liam's hand, still clenched tightly, began to tremble before finally slowly releasing. He collapsed weakly, stepping back a few paces, staring at his own hand in horror.
"What just happened... I..." he muttered, unable to believe what he had almost done.
Levi coughed softly, still lying there with his heart pounding. "You're crazy... you almost killed me, Liam..."
Liam bowed his head. The guilt hit him harder than any pain he had ever felt before.
"Something's wrong with me, Levi..." he whispered.
Levi looked at his friend, still panting, but this time with a different expression—not anger, but concern.
"You have to tell me, Li. Whatever it is. We can't just brush this off as nothing."
Liam remained seated, his knees bent, both hands covering his face. His breath was labored, but this time not from exhaustion—but from fear. Not of Levi. But of himself.
"I… I don't understand, Levi…" his voice was hoarse, barely audible.
Levi slowly stood up, sitting across from Liam while holding the side of his neck that still felt sore. He looked at his friend with a serious expression.
"Liam, please… I need you to talk. I just almost got hit with a punch that could shatter a rock. Do you know what that means?"
Liam lifted his face. Those eyes—usually calm—now looked fragile. He stared at Levi for a moment before finally speaking.
"I'm scared too, Lev… I don't understand what's happening to me. But everything started changing this morning."
"Changing?"
"My body. My strength. My vision, my speed—everything. It feels like… like I'm not myself anymore." Liam lowered his head, his voice trembling. "And last night… I had a strange dream. Not an ordinary dream. It felt real. Too real."
Levi looked at him, waiting without interrupting.
Liam slowly pulled up his sleeve, revealing something that shouldn't be there—a faint symbol, glowing softly as if carved into his flesh.
It resembled a broken circle, with thin lines spreading out like roots or cracks in glass. The symbol seemed alive—pulsating, red like embers, as if every breath Liam took gave it life.
Levi tensed. "That's… not a tattoo, is it?"
Liam shook his head slowly. "It just appeared. When that figure touched me, it felt like all my blood was boiling. Then… I fainted. The last thing I remember is being in class. But when I came to, everything was destroyed."
Levi froze. He took a deep breath, trying to piece together all the fragments of the story in his mind. "And you haven't told anyone else?"
Liam shook his head again. "I'm scared. If this is really a power I can't control… what if one day I hurt someone else? Or… you?"
Levi paused for a moment, then placed his hand on Liam's shoulder. This time, there was no pushiness or fear—only sincerity.
"Listen, Liam. Whatever's happening, you're not alone. We'll figure this out together. I won't leave you, okay?"
Liam looked at him, his eyes almost teary. A sense of relief—though faint—began to seep into his chest.
"But, Lev…" he whispered softly, "there's one thing that makes me even more certain… that this isn't just a coincidence."
"What?"
Liam looked at him straight in the eye, then uttered one name.
"NEXARIS."